In this case Martin was not to go and disturb the woods on peril of his salary and his head, and a fine of a penny.
Margaret sighed and was silent.
"Come, cheer up, mistress," said he; "for your sake I'll peril my carcass; I have done that for many a one that was not worth your forefinger.

It is no such mighty risk either.

I'll but step into the skirts of the forest here.

It is odds but they drive a hare or a fawn within reach of my arrow." "Well, if I let you go, you must promise me not to go far, and not to be seen; far better Gerard went supperless than ill should come to you, faithful Martin." The required promise given, Martin took his bow and three arrows, and stole cautiously into the wood: it was scarce a furlong distant.

The horns were heard faintly in the distance, and all the game was afoot.
"Come," thought Martin, "I shall soon fill the pot, and no one be the wiser." He took his stand behind a thick oak that commanded a view of an open glade, and strung his bow, a truly formidable weapon.